It starts with a scotch-hold-the-rocks 10 miles awayExcept, we don't know that yet, we don't know that later tonightWhile we're in a 24/7 buying instant coffee and car cleanerA light will be green, a phone will buzz and someone we didn't listen to long enoughTo get a name, or any sort of name with any meaning, will hit the curve on an angleAnd no name will let go of the wheel because there was too much scotch andNot enough rocks in his drink and it's as he's thinking this, as he's contemplatingThe ratio of ice-water-scotch that he will plow through the front window of the convenience storeRight through feminine products and into the milk fridge.At the time, you'll be holding a pack of gum that you had no intention of paying forAnd in all the mess never will end up paying for.It's in that moment between the shatter of glass and the moment of impact that I'll wonder,Just for a second, just for a moment, that if we'd had priorities, if we thought it was more importantTo buy milk than crap coffee and steal gumThen maybe it would have been me under that car, or maybe it would have been youAnd maybe I wouldn't know which was worse so I'd have to find out, I'd have toKnow, one way or the other and that's why this will all start, and I'll be sorryThat I was always the cat called curiosity. I'll be sorry that I couldn't let it be. I'll be sorryThat I'm not sure if I'm all that sorry.

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